


Hungry

by orphan_account



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Ficlet, Hobbits, M/M, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-04
Updated: 2007-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>'It is gone forever,' he said, 'and now all is cold and empty.'<br/>But the fit passed, and when Sam got back on the twenty-fifth, Frodo had recovered, and he said nothing about himself. In the meanwhile Bag End had been set in order, and Merry and Pippin came over from Crickhollow bringing back all the old furniture and gear, so that the old hole soon looked very much as it always had done.<br/>- The Return of the King, Chapter IX - The Grey Havens</p>
    </blockquote>





	Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> 'It is gone forever,' he said, 'and now all is cold and empty.'  
> But the fit passed, and when Sam got back on the twenty-fifth, Frodo had recovered, and he said nothing about himself. In the meanwhile Bag End had been set in order, and Merry and Pippin came over from Crickhollow bringing back all the old furniture and gear, so that the old hole soon looked very much as it always had done.  
> \- The Return of the King, Chapter IX - The Grey Havens

Merry's hands on his waist, strong and sure. Familiar. Fingers tight against the flesh, sweat squeezed in between. The brush of lips against the back of his neck - he sighs and arches back against him, and feels the tickle of curls on his shoulder.

Pippin's mouth on his neck, and then one slender hand lifting his chin up, while teeth nibble at a vulnerable jugular. Another hand snaking behind his thigh, pulling his leg up slightly as Merry's hands slip lower.

His breath coming in so fully, so deeply, the air tingling through his body.

So. Good.

And the rope - around his wrists - the strain on his arms, as he is pulled slightly lower by four hands. He mewls, because he wants to pull Pippin's face closer when he kisses him, bring him tight against his lips for some form of fulfillment. But the hand stays at his neck, holding him back, just a touch further than he'd want to be. Some part of him knows this is what makes it so good; that it is just beyond reach.

He feels the metal chain, cool against his skin, and the white stone caught between his chest and Pippin's.

He cries out, his body jerking, as Merry thrusts up.

He wakes up hours later, the horizon outside growing light, though he cannot see it. He knows he's only slept a little. He pulls himself from the tangle of cousins, eliciting little more than sleepy sighs from them, and pulls on a robe. He makes his way through the boxes and haphazardly placed furniture, still waiting for another day of cleaning and moving, and goes into the garden.

He pumps up water for a bath. The birds are still quiet, waiting for the sun. The night is warm, and he decides he doesn't feel like pulling out the tub and making enough noise to wake Merry and Pippin. He glances down the road, and towards the New Row, at the dark windows. Hobbiton is quiet. He slips out of his robe, and splashes the icy water over himself, washing off clinging sticky sweat, and other things. He puts down the bucket, then, and shivers.

He can feel the hunger again. He is not aware that he plays with the chain around his neck as his gaze is drawn once again towards New Row. He wishes Sam was with him.

He doesn't feel it so when Sam is with him.

He goes back into the bedroom, and wakes his cousins up. They don't speak, but somehow they understand. And they're young and eager and strong and they're almost enough to fill him up.

Almost.


End file.
